


Where The Wind Takes Me

by ironhawkofmischief



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Erebor quest AU, Everybody Lives (maybe), Fix it AU, M/M, Mentions of Death, Will Add More
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-03-18 12:43:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3570125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironhawkofmischief/pseuds/ironhawkofmischief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young prince Frerin of the line of Durin is torn from his home land. Loses his brother and grandfather in a great war against orcs and soon his father to a stupid quest for Erebor. Frerin feels the pressure of his people and the need to go back home to a land that once was takes a toll on the young prince. With a strong head, Frerin leads a company of 13 dwarves, a hobbit, and a grey wizard across the middle earth in hopes to reclaim his home land for the memory of his oldest brother haunts him. This was what Thorin would have wanted, for Frerin to carry on as the rightful king of Erebor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue/Intro

**Author's Note:**

> Sleep muddled brain decided Frerin needs to take back Erebor.. This is unedited and only the prologue. Would love feed back and will be working on chapter one. I do not know how often I will post (I have many fics I have long since abandoned I need to return to as well!)

Halls of gold and marble. That is what Frerin remembered of Erebor. His homeland and the mightiest of the dwarf kingdoms until Smaug, the Terrible took their mountain and sent the dwarves running. Frerin was just barely 19 and still a dwarfling. Their mother had perished in the flames and that left only Thror, Thrain, Thorin, Frerin, and Dis. They traveled long and hard for many years until they finally settled in Dunland. It wasn’t exactly what they wanted nor glamourous. 

At the age of 48, just barely an adult, his grandfather sent them into the bloodiest battle ever seen by any dwarf. Thror was beheaded and Thorin rallied the dwarves to fight. Though, even that took it’s toll and at the end of the battle, the blond Frerin couldn’t find his brother’s body. Many feared their newly rightful king had died and when no body nor dwarf had shown the crown fell upon Frerin. Such a very young heir he was. Nothing but a child that just wanted to play pranks and hide from Balin’s lessons. 

Some of his spunk had been lost. The once cheerful young prince was now hardened by hardship, and turmoil, Thrain had them settle down in Ered luin by his 90th year and that was well in good. Until a small troop of dwarves tried to take back Erebor and in which Thrain was presumed dead after being taken by Sauron. Frerin made a settlement in the Blue Mountains and would travel day in and day out to provide for his family. Which now was just his sister and her husband. He traveled to many town of men and worked a meager living, but it all soon came together.

Fili, his almost look a like, was born when he was 108 years old. Weathered by time, but all the more happy when the small dwarf boy was born. The first dwarfling born since the whole Erebor being lost. That is what kept him going. Light was soon brought back into his dark hazel eyes and he could easily be found playing with the small dwarfling if he wasn’t away traveling.

Kili was next. A winter dwarfling babe and so tiny. Much more or so than his older sibling. The boy had the dark hair of his uncle and mother, but those dark hazel eyes that rivaled Frerin’s own. That was when he knew that he needed to retake the mountain. Not just for himself, no ever for himself. Their lives were coming together in Ered Luin and they were happy and all very healthy. Though he knew that Thorin had wanted to take back Erebor. If he had been around when Thrain lead the group he would have been first in line to take back the throne of their long forgotten mountain. With the edition of the two boys, and heavy weights upon his young shoulders, Frerin concocted a plan. A plan to take back the lonely mountain.


	2. The Quest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bag end, such a wonderful place! The start of the quest is upon us!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh holy shit. I had this sitting and was able to post it for WEEKS and just now REALIZED OMG PEOPLE SO SORRY! things have been really hectic and busy and I am starting a job with 40 plus hours a week next week. I am already working on chapter three for this so please... just forgive me! If any of you wish to see more find me on tumblr hobbitcrackshipahoy and like poke and bug me until I remember to start writing I need the motivations!

“I’m still your older brother! I will be fine. I have traveled much farther with much less.” Frerin assured his sister who stood with a frown upon her face. Those same lines of worry that Thorin used to get. Frerin had to shake it off and then give her a goofy half smile. “I promise to take care of them. Fili and Kili will be fine by my side. We have 13 in total… Some of the best warriors.” Well, two if you really thought about it. Dwalin, who had been a longtime friend of Thorin before the fall of Erebor, and then who took to the younger prince in the time of Turmoil. He and his older brother had also fought alongside him and his family in Moria. 

“Fine, but they must come back unscathed! Don’t be reckless, Frerin.” Dis scolded before she too smiled and hugged him tightly. “Boys, come now.” She called as Fili and Kili rounded the corner with their two horses. She hugged them both, and still swore they were too young. Frerin had then reminded her that he fought in Moria at only the age of 48 and that quieted her down some. “Be careful and listen to your uncle!” She chided and they laughed and gave her a teary hug as they climbed upon their ponies.

Frerin had to shake his head a bit and sighed. Kili had grown to look so much like his mother and the uncle they never knew. Though his eyes matched Frerin. Fili on the other hand had the sandy hair of their father as well as Frerin himself. Though, his eyes were piercing blue like his mother’s and Thorin’s. It was odd how those two looked so similar yet so different. “Come, we ride out and will meet up with the rest of the company at this house in what is known as the Shire. What Gandalf told me in Bree last year is that it is a hobbit. Funny little thing if it resembles the small people in Bree.” Frerin explained as they rode out, Dis watching until they were out of the Blue Mountains.

“What is a hobbit? What is his name?” Kili asked curiously and Frerin shrugged.

“A half ling of some sort. Short, smaller than us even and round. They have large furry feet and pointy ears much like elves.” That made Frerin grimace. He didn’t hate elves as much as his brother had, but still they could have been a bit more help in the past. “They live in holes, though supposedly they are not dirty. We will see when we get there yeah?” The boys hummed in agreement and they rode in silence.

The trip through Bree and to the Shire was quite well and they had no problems with bandits or orc packs. That was a nice change of pace for the three dwarves. Now they stopped at the house in which was presumed to be the right door. It was green and Gandalf’s mark was glowing blue. Noises told them that someone had already joined them. So they were a tad late, or the dwarves inside were just incredibly early.

Dismounting, Frerin tied up the ponies and trodded up to the door and knocked. “I believe Gandalf said his name was Boggins.” He commented as the door opened. The three dwarves stood side, by side, by side. All smiled in unison.

“Fili.”

“Kili.”

“And Frerin.”

“At your service.” The three said in unison, bowing as if they had rehearsed it. They hadn’t it was just a natural occurrence for them. Most anyone thought they were all three brothers. Frerin was barely greying, and they all looked so similar. Alas, he was 190 years old while Fili was 82, and Kili just barely 77. Both still young but they were experienced fighters. Frerin made sure of that with the help of Dwalin.

“You must be Mr. Boggins!” Kili piped up and stepped forward with his infectious grin he got from Frerin.

“Nope, you come to the wrong house!” The small man squeaked and moved to close the door only for them to press against it.

“What?” Fili asked.

“Has it been canceled?” Kili asked, his eyes wide and worrisome as he looked to Frerin who frowned.

“No one told us…” Frerin said, already starting to feel anger well from Gandalf playing this damn game with him. He knew that wizard was trouble!

“Can-Canceled? No nothings been canceled…” The hobbit said, though then regretted it when Fili and Kili pushed the door open, grins upon their faces.

“Great!” Kili said as they entered. “Nice place you got here… Do it yourself?” He asked as he kicked mud off of his feet. At the same time Fili was handing over his twin blades exclaiming they were sharp due to being just sharpened.

“No, been in the family for years… That is my mother’s glory box can you please not do that!?” Already Frerin liked the small Halfling as he shouted and already scolded his younger nephew who looked sheepish but was soon pulled into the kitchen with Dwalin and Balin. Frerin walked up to the hobbit and slowly took the weapons.

“Forgive them. They are young yet and this is their first journey past Dunland.” Frerin said calmly and winked as he sat the weapons to the side, right as the door was knocked upon.

Bilbo was speechless to the dwarf but soon turned when he heard the door. “No body is home! You can’t come in I have far too many dwarves in my kitchen as it is-“ He was cut off when the door opened and the rest of the company piled in, along with the grey wizard. A sigh escaped his lips. “Gandalf…” He grumbled softly. So, the hobbit knew Gandalf as well? At least that was how Frerin had come about to this rather green land filled with such tiny people. 

~~~~

The pantry raid was probably the most fun Frerin had ever had. He eagerly led his merry troop in and they devoured it. Food was placed upon the table and they all sat around as Bilbo stood agape, trying to stop any and all food going past him. It was clearly not working as soon someone started to toss food. Food flew and burps were had. Fili had jumped up on the table and passed out ale. Frerin was at the head of the table, tossing food into Bombur’s mouth as the company howled with laughter. The only quiet was when they toasted and drank rather obnoxiously. Half the ale dripping down their beards instead of inside of their mouth. 

When they finished, a burping contest ensued with the most timid, Ori actually out burping them all. Quite a bit of fun if Frerin ever thought so. He happily stood from the table as they all finished to eat to try and find Gandalf. Instead he heard the conversation.

“I don’t want to get used to them! I just want to know what they are doing in my house!” The small hobbit shrieked as Gandalf smoked his pipe.

He opened his mouth to speak but then Ori walked up shyly. “Excuse me… I don’t mean to interrupt but what do I do with my plate?” Ever the gentle dwarf. Frerin intervened before Bilbo could say a word.

“Here Ori, give it here.” He drawled and quickly tossed the plate to Fili who jumped and caught it then threw it to Kili who sent it into the kitchen where Bifur was washing the plates and silverware as they flew to his head silently. Frerin laughed eagerly and quickly started up a rhythm in the dining room with a few of the other dwarves with the silverware.

“Excuse me! You will blunt them! That…That is my mother’s west farthing crockery it is over 100 years old!” Bilbo shrieked, not sure if he should try to catch the flying pottery or to grab the silverware.

“Ya hear that lads? Says we will blunt the knives!” Frerin drawled as he jumped up onto the table and started to belt.

Blunt the knives, bend the forks  
Smash the bottles and burn the corks  
Chip the glasses and crack the plates  
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!

Cut the cloth, tread on the fat  
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat  
Pour the milk on the pantry floor  
Splash the wine on every door!

Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl  
Pound them up with a thumping pole  
When you're finished if they are whole  
Send them down the hall to roll

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!

When the song ended, the frantic and almost hyperventilating halfing was in the kitchen staring at the laughing dwarves who held all the now clean crockery and silverware, nothing was broken and every piece of food was picked up and cleaned. Everything they had sung about didn’t happen. In fact, they did the opposite. Frerin looked mighty proud of his new dwarf family for the time being and pulled out his pipe. Fili and Kili followed and soon they were all smoking upon their pipes.

Even though they were alone, and no other dwarf kingdom would help, Frerin had a good feeling about this group. These dwarves had come upon when he had called. Called for courage, loyalty, strength, and much more. They weren’t all fighters but did that really matter? “Everyone, into the dining hall.” Gandalf called as they entered slowly. Frerin stood at the head of the table as Gandalf pulled out a map. Bilbo looked at it curiously and so did Frerin. When did the man find this? Frerin almost questioned but Bilbo had spoken up.

“The…Lonely Mountain. What is this?” He asked and Frerin sighed.

“A quest…” He stated curiously and cocked his head.

“You are going on a quest?” The halfing asked and Frerin hummed and nodded in acknowledgement. 

“Oin has read the portents and the portents say it is time!” Gloin spoke up. A few of the dwarves rolled their eyes and Oin spoke up.

“Aye! Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain. When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end.” He quoted. Some groaned at that stupid tale. Bilbo looked a bit concerned and quite taken a back.

“Beast? What beast?”

Bofur quickly piped up around his pipe. “Smaug the Terrible chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Air born fire breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks. Extremely fond of precious metals.”

“I know what a dragon is thank you very much!” Bilbo squeaked and frowned at them. 

“I’m not afraid! I’m up for it! I will give him a taste of the dwarfish iron right up his jacksie!” Ori shouted as he jumped from his seat. Frerin lit up at that. It was nice to see the most timid, and the scribe none the less so enthused by this. Dwarves shouted but Dori quickly pulled his youngest sibling down.

“Sit down!” Dori hissed lovingly.

Balin grumbled lightly. “The task would be difficult with an army behind us. We number 13 and not 13 of the best or brightest.”

“Aye… Who you callin dim!?” Nori shouted.

“What did he say?” Oin asked curiously and a few others made noises of protests as Fili slammed his fist down.

“We are few in number but we are fighters! All of us! To the last dwarves! Du bekar!” Fili said as a few resounded with their own shouts in Khuzdul.

“You all forget we have a wizard in our company. Gandalf will have killed a thousand dragons in his time!” Frerin snickered, having already known the wizard had never faced a dragon. Though, he had a sense of pride swell within him at hearing Fili already rallying the dwarves and Kili so genuinely trying to help. He almost felt as if he was looking at himself and Thorin. It made his stomach churn as Gandalf tried to protest.

Frerin was brought out of his contemplations as they all started to grow loud and fight amongst themselves over Gandalf having never killed a dragon before. When the noise is almost deafening he cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Atkat!” He snarled out. Every dwarf stopped and settled down upon their seats.

“There are all these signs! The dragons have not been seen for nigh on 60 years! If we are reading them don’t you think others will have read them to? Should we stand back and let anyone take what is rightfully ours!? Du bekar!” He shouted which caused the dwarves to shout along with him happily as he grinned, pumping his fist in the air. ‘Thorin, if you are watching from the halls of waiting, I hope I am making you proud.’ Frerin thought as they seemed to get excited. Of course, the ever intelligent one, Balin speaks up.

“You forget the front gate is sealed! There is no way into the mountain.” He grumbled, which caused everyone to quiet.

“That, my dear Balin is not entirely true.” Gandalf slowly pulled out a key. Hazel eyes widened as the man handed it over to Frerin. Frerin instantly knew it was a dwarven made key. One he believed he saw his father with once or twice.

“How came you by this?” He asked quietly, gulping as he ran his fingers across it.

“Thrain gave it to me, for safe keeping..” He explained as Fili sat up.

“If there is a key… There is a door!” His blue eyes glanced to Kili who was lightening up quite a bit, leaning forward and nodded as he patted his brother’s shoulder. Gandalf looked upon the map and pointed.

“This map tells of a hidden passage to the lower halls.”

“But that means theres another way in!” Kili enthused to the wizard.

“If we can find it, dear Kili. Dwarf doors are invisible to the naked eye when sealed. The answer lies within the map and I don’t have the skill to find it. There are others in middle earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. If we are careful and clever, It can be done I believe.” Gandalf explained. Frerin looked uncertain. Others who could read the map? That meant elves… No one would stand to work with those vile hairless creatures! At least men grew beards! He scoffed, but sighed and shook his head. 

“That’s why we need a burglar!” Ori piped up curiously and Bilbo hummed in agreement.

“And a good one too. An expert I would imagine!”

“Well, are you?” Frerin asked the hobbit quietly.

“Am I what?” Bilbo asked as Oin grinned.

“He said he’s an expert eey!” That made a few of the dwarves grin and Bilbo stuttered and shook his head. 

“N-no! I have never stolen a thing in my life! I am no burglar!”

“Aye, I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He is hardly the burglar type.” Balin agreed.

“The wild is no place for kind and gentle folk.” Dwalin nearly spat and glared at the hobbit. The dwarves seemed to get riled by this. They had made this long out of the way trip for nothing and now they were being told that their supposed burglar was no burglar at all but some weak small thing. 

As the sound grew, Gandalf seemed to become more and more angry. Frerin was doing his best to quiet the group until finally it broke. “Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar than a burglar he is!” The grey wizard snarled out, making everyone cower, even Frerin who stopped as he looked up, and rose an eyebrow before his eyes went back to Bilbo. “Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet and can pass unknown by most of they so choose. While the dragon is accustomed to dwarf smell a hobbit’s smell is all but unknown to him. This gives us the upper hand! You asked me to find the 14th member of the group and Frerin here I am with your 14th member. There is a lot more here than appearances suggest. Hes got a great more deal to offer than any of you know, including himself. Just trust me on this.” 

Frerin sat and thought on it for a second then nodded. “Fine, we will do it your way. Give him the contract.” 

“No, no. No!” Bilbo tried to protest as the contract was given to him by Balin. 

“It’s just the usual summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth.”   
“F-funeral arrangements?” Bilbo asked as he stepped back to read the contract quietly, a frown upon his face. He quietly read some of it out loud and looked up “Terms: Cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one fourteenth of total profit, if any. Seems fair. Eh, Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof including but not limited to lacerations ... evisceration … incineration?”

“Aye, he will melt the flesh off yer bones in the blink of an eye!” Of course, Bofur was trying to be helpful but telling something so fragile what could happen wasn’t a good idea. Frerin turned to stop but then was cut off. Bilbo claimed to feel faint and was gulping as if he was hyperventilating. “Flash of light, searing pain and then poof! You are nothing more than a pile of ash.” It seemed Bilbo let it sunk in and seemed okay for a second until he was on the floor in a heart beat.

“Good going, Bofur.” Frerin hissed out as he shook his head and moved to help the hobbit up and into an arm chair to rest with a cup of chamomile tea, courtesy of Dori.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos, comments, bookmarks welcome!


	3. ATTENTION

Sorry to all my followers. Alot has come up in life and I have major writer's block. I also do not have a working lap top so writing is not something I can do at the moment unless I steal my S/O's computer. I promise to come back! Thanks to anyone who is still following me!

**Author's Note:**

> So? Love it? Hate it? Wanna beta read? Leave comments and kudos please


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